


Dawnings and Fire

by Onceyourempire



Category: Fight Club (1999)
Genre: Gen, M/M, movieverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-24
Updated: 2012-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-30 01:57:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onceyourempire/pseuds/Onceyourempire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler looks good in the saturation of dawn, because he is a storm of everything red and gold and yellow and orange represent. Fear. Chaos. Fire. The end.</p><p>He can't believe he holds any power over that storm, or that he allowed it to hold power over him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dawnings and Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Last night was tough man. I was sick and my legs hurt and I just couldn't sleep. After I rolled on the bathroom floor for a bit I got back into bed and thought about Fight Club. This kind of took over my head and I had to write it.
> 
> I feel like writing Fight Club fanfiction has made me take a level in fanfiction.

The kiss Tyler presses to his hand is strangely intimate and he doesn't know how to react. 

Not that he gets to.

Because before he knows it there's chemical on his hand, sealing the kiss into his skin and if he didn't know it before he knows it now- he knows he belongs to Tyler Durden.

When he's gasping for air on the ground, clutching the still stinging but no longer burning wound, Tyler picks him up and bandages what he created.

When Tyler kisses his hand this time, over the bandages, he knows what he didn't ever know before- that Tyler Durden belongs to him.

The idea that he could hold any power at all over the maddening storm that is his housemate (his brother, friend, fight partner, his everything these days) is absolutely terrifying.

They say nothing the rest of the night and the silence lasts until the sun rises and they watch it blow up over the horizon with sleepless eyes.

And Tyler, for once, does not hold the first word.

This time, the other man speaks first. He says something about exploding stars and Vincent van Gogh and impossible colors. Tyler smiles but neither of them realize it.

Tyler talks about van Gogh, about his madness, his passion. Tyler likes van Gogh, because he never thought he was a special snowflake. He thought he wasn't worth jack shit, and Tyler likes to see that in people. It allows him to peel open the reality of a man, when they don't try to hide behind self-esteem.

That's probably why Tyler likes him so much, he thinks quietly, a whisper of a thought that stays far longer than expected. Tyler likes him because he is well aware of how little he is worth.

He looks at Tyler, who looks like he is literally soaked in orange and red light. He looks good in those colors- the shades of fire and destruction and new beginnings and the dawning of something grand.

Tyler looks at him. He doesn't know if he looks good in destruction and beginnings, but he doesn't really care.

It's the beginning of the end and it's the most beautiful thing they've ever seen.


End file.
